The Groaning of Creation

Yesterday I paused after my shower behind our house, the sky was orange from city lights and as I took a second to be still a bat swooped down and up between the houses and through the street light. It left me in a state of wonder. A few more times he came back and though almost noiseless I imagined the wind from his wings on my face. I stood and the concrete felt rough and cool beneath my bare feet. Most of the house lights were already out but the night was bright with shadows. Wonder. My mind was stuck on simple awe of the strength of life I encounter at every turn through my day. I read a poem once about the places poetry hides...in old socks tossed on the floor, in skunk’s eyes. Now it seems life has crept on me in much the same way. The tap dripping in the hollows of the sunlit kitchen; The image of the t-shirt I am throwing on the line against the blue sky; The breeze I can see whispering to the tree tops though I am hot and sticky; The hand of a buntis (pregnant woman) on her swollen belly; The blended colours of traffic as I take the first calculated step to cross the street; a mothers breath between contractions; the incessant whine of the neighbourhood dog as I try to work; the karaoke crooning from the corner at most given times; the simple look between friends when you know what is heavy on the their heart; the mosquito swatted thoughtlessly on my leg and wiped on my lappa; the irregular whirl of my fan. Since yesterday I have been bombarded by these little portraits. I feel my body must not have room for the simple joy of LIFE. What then when I dwell on our created spirits? The pain of separation, the gift of voice, power of purpose...; what infinite more life is cupped in us- can I explode in wonder?!Today at church we partook in communion and I felt the life of Christ in my body- how can I tell you that it is this life which truly sustains all the above. The source is not dead (!) and all things in movement or stationary on the edge of the counter are silently vibrant with the breath of the Living God. I say silent because mostly we are not able to hear...but quietly and slowly my ears are opening to the voice of creation:“The creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed. For creation was subject to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we are saved. But hope that is not seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what he already has? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.”Am I a fool to hope? Then I am a fool for Christ. From the corners of the world I hear tell of the works of the Lord! My body will not contain the anticipation of the Spirit within me. I was created for life and I am ALIVE! May His name be praised throughout all generations and in all nations....